When the Coffee's Cold
When the coffee's cold
the story's old
rooster missed his cue again
nightmares in both our pens...
clouds high on the horizon
me, low on the totem pole
when the coffee's this cold
sundial's dug me a black hole...
head-shakes rattle my brain
Will they ever ease the pain
back and knees have yet to please
O, glorious morning, refills of unease
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2023
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